


Next Step

by orphan_account



Series: Makoto/Fem!Haruka mostly-nsfw oneshots [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: (kinda?), Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blow Jobs, Children of Characters, Daddy Kink, Dominance, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Genderbending, Making Love, Married Couple, Multiple Orgasms, Nostalgia, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Pregnancy, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4941340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have been together for many, many years; married for three of them. It just feels natural for them to suddenly realize they are ready to take the next step into a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next Step

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr request: "Your last fic got me imagining Haru getting pregnant (after they're married, of course) So maybe you could write that? It's just a suggestion, of course!"
> 
> Firstly, I'm so sorry it took me so long to post something here. It's been over a month, I think, and I couldn't feel more miserable. I was sick for a week and then had a huge block, along with some anxiety attacks or something like that. This is no excuse, though, and the delay was really irresponsable of me. I have two other fem!Haru requests I intend to post soon, though I should probably update my other fics first. Idk, I have to think about what I'll do.
> 
> Secondly, this is not nearly as good as I wish it were. It's long, yes, but I don't know. It lacks something but I can't figure what. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm sorry again! Dear anon who requested this and other readers: I hope you like it! I did my best!

The idea came from a shock. A slight moment of agreement, and then, both curiosity and surprise, Haruka’s eyes widening in awareness as she squeezed her husband’s hand, their fingers twined together as they strolled through the park after a picnic date – Makoto’s idea of celebrating their third year as a married couple.

It is funny for her to be so aware of change so suddenly – wanting it, when even their engagement came so simply, with Makoto turning to her one day and proposing, their status never really mattering because they have been always together, ever since birth. Neither of them even remembered how couples tend to date, marry and grow old with rings within their fingers and shared surnames, because being together – simply _being_ – is already so natural for them as it is. She said yes, of course, not even a doubt in her mind as she smiled at him and kissed him tenderly, just another step to take that wouldn’t really change anything in their relationship but clearly something that would mark them as each other’s. As a family.

But only after those three years is that Haruka realizes there is something else – something she never thought she would want fully. Something Makoto reminded her as he pointed to children running around the grass and playing ball, saying, “I can’t wait to have one of our own.” And the best thing, the one that hit her with full force, is that _yes_ , she can’t wait for that either. That’s when she turns her head to face the only man she has ever loved, looking at him deeply in the eyes and nodding slowly, Makoto’s gleaming eyes telling her everything; not hiding the emotion behind them. There is doubt, though, a thin line of “Are you sure?” within those green, wide orbs. A question Haruka opts to answer pressing her lips against his, standing on the tips of her toes.

“I love you,” Makoto whispers, kissing her forehead as they part, his eyes closed and his heart beating fast against Haruka’s fingertips when she presses her free hand against his chest, feeling his warmness and his emotion. Sharing it herself.

“I know,” she says, leaning against him as he hugs her, his excited laugh forcing her to join in the happiness, the awareness. They should plan this – they _have_ to plan this. Her job is stable, her position as a chef earning her enough to live a calm, steady life. With Makoto’s share of the responsibility, a Literature professor in one of Japan’s best universities, they sure are ready to take the next step.

Makoto looks down at her, his eyes watery with emotion. Haruka has always loved how open he is about what he’s feeling, how little it takes for her to read his expressions and see exactly what’s going through his head. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he says, earning a foolish giggle from his wife. She is almost 27, for God’s sake! Yet she can’t seem to stop behaving like a school girl at the thought. A baby. A child. She’s going to be a mother and Makoto, a father. It’s unbelievable and exciting, brief pulses of energy running through her body, making her heart beat faster and forcing her to smile, not even able to mask her feelings; not wanting to.

“People are looking at us,” Makoto chuckles, caressing Haruka’s cheek with his thumb. “I guess we’re too old to behave like this.”

Haruka shakes her head, briefly closing her eyes. “Don’t mind them,” she tells him, kissing his shoulder and squeezing his hand once again, hoping to share a little of her own energy, her own excitement. “I’m happy. I really am.”

Makoto sighs at that, his smile as beautiful as always. “I know,” he says, not taking his eyes off her. “You had me freaking out earlier, though. I thought I had ruined everything saying that I wanted kids.”

“Kids?” Haruka smirks. “As in more than one?”

Caught, Makoto laughs, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Maybe…? I mean, we have a lot to talk before actually doing anything. And I don’t think the park is the place to do it,” he says. “Let’s go home and decide things later, okay? We don’t have to rush or anything.”

“But I want to,” Haruka tells him, her voice low as if confessing some kind of secret. “I didn’t actually think about it, not after we got married, at least. But when you said that… it kind of made me realize that I want it, too. And I think we’re ready.”

Makoto smiles, kisses her on the forehead again and begins to walk, adjusting his backpack strap as they follow through the rock path. Even as anxious and excited as Haruka is, she knows there is a lot of planning to do. She can’t simply get pregnant without getting to know some things – such as maternity leave, the medical procedure, kinds of food she can eat or not… all these important stuff she’ll need to remember later. They’ll have to save some money for the future, too, and buy stuff when the time comes. Eventually, they’ll have to move out from their apartment – the place too small for a child. Maybe a house would be nice, somewhere calm and secure, where kids can ride their bikes and parents can sit on the sidewalk observing and cheering with that tranquil peace. She’ll have to call Mrs. Tachibana for tips and advice; also, her mother, to let her know. She’ll let Makoto tell their friends, though, because she knows he’ll love to do so.

It’s probably not going to be as easy as many people think, but maybe– no, it’s _definitely_ going to be worth it. So she smiles at her husband and walks with him until the park exit, her mind full of ideas and questions that soon will be answered.

 

* * *

 

Although excited, they wait.

Wait for Makoto’s parents to give advice; wait for Haruka’s work to become even more stable; wait enough so, eleven months after, Makoto won’t have to miss work to care for a baby because it’s summer and he’s on break.

They plan it out and start their savings, every little thing possible. And every time they remember why they are doing that, it makes both of them giggly and excited. It’s still amazing and new, the whole thought of having a baby – _raising a child!_ – so unbelievably good. Makoto has always wanted a daughter – a little girl for him to care for. He thought Haruka wouldn’t be so willing to sacrifice her freedom to take care of a baby or something like that – and he wouldn’t dare to force her. But when his wish slipped, his secret out, Haruka agreed. _‘She wants it too!’_ he realized, eyes gleaming and kind of watery. _‘She wants it!’_

Still, he figures they should think it out; having a baby is not simple. It’s a whole new life they are going to raise, a whole new human of their own. That’s why they spend weeks talking about it, considering the possibilities. Haruka suggests moving to a house somewhere calmer and Makoto is quick to agree; she also comes up with an economic plan and a few magazines giving long lists of tips, to which he’s very grateful for. He knows he’ll be a good father – if the years of babysitting his siblings are any proof –, though he feels like Haruka is a bit hesitant. He is quick to reassure her, reminding her of the way she handled the kids in Iwatobi SC Returns once he was too sick to coach them. And also, saying “Ren and Ran loved playing with you” always seem to brighten up her mood.

 _‘It is time,’_ Makoto realizes, taking the train home from one of his sick coworker’s house, who asked Makoto to get him the exams he’s supposed to grade. Being the sweetheart he is, Makoto complied – the ride making giving him enough time to think about his and Haruka’s situation and come up with solutions.

 _‘This is it,’_ he thinks, smiling at himself. Today is the perfect day, with Haruka at home making dinner and waiting for him. It’s a Saturday, and tomorrow is Haruka’s day-off. Also, there are no Literature classes on Sunday. It’s perfect.

That’s why he practically jumps all the way back home, his feet rushing and his heart thumping against his chest in a rapid rhythm. His smile is on display for everyone to see, even as he slips the key into the locker and turns it, the door flying open as he steps inside. He sighs happily at the sight of his wife in the kitchen, her apron around her body in a very nostalgic way – the same apron she wore when they were in High School, only fuller of memories and moments, ones they will share for the rest of their lives.

She is about to greet him when he throws his arms around her and kisses her, the ladle in her hand falling to the ground. His hands are on her back and trailing up to her neck and hair, his lips against hers like it has been years. Haruka herself melts against him, sighing and hugging him tightly.

He loves her– _so damn much_. Every kiss they share warms his whole body; every single touch has him acting like a fool, not sure of how to proceed because it’s _so good_. Years of relationship and he’s still the dork he was when they started dating, the one that doesn’t yet believe he has Haruka all to himself.

They part quickly, the steam coming from the saucepan alerting Haruka. She hits her husband on the shoulder with the back of her hand softly, bending to grab the fallen ladle. Makoto wastes no time teasing her, his hands trailing down her body and resting against her ass cheeks, squeezing them and making her yelp as she straightens herself up. She is trying to mask her emotion behind a stoic expression, but her eyes can’t lie – they gleam in that certain way he loves so much, the same way that tells him she gets what he’s trying to do.

“I can’t make a proper dinner if you keep groping me like a pervert,” she says, turning her back at him and washing the ladle quickly, dipping it in the sauce not a second later.

Makoto chuckles and leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing her backside as he tilts his head. “Not my fault,” he shrugs, crossing his arms around his chest. “It’s been a while since you wore this apron. What’s the special occasion?”

“I had the whole day to myself,” Haruka says, her nonchalance fooling no one. He wishes he could see what kind of face she’s making. “A whole day of thinking.”

The brunet smiles at her words. It’s incredible how, even apart, they understand each other so well. It’s almost scary how they seem to be always thinking the same things, at the same time. It used to be common during their High School years, but ever since they got married– it increased. More often than not, talking was unnecessary. Still, even if able to read her mind, he wouldn’t give up hearing her voice say it out loud.

“I see,” Makoto chuckles, walking towards her and stopping right behind her, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck. “You need any help here?” he asks, lips moving to her shoulder and arms hugging her waist. She is warm and short, fitting perfectly with him... well, not exactly short – she is tall, but comparing to him... not so much. But he loves her height and how she always needs him to reach the top shelf when shopping for groceries or to get something that is too high in the cabinets. But also, it’s cute to see her trying on her own, her whole body stretched as she stands on the tip of her toes, fingers twitching as they try to reach for whatever it is, until she turns around and realizes her husband is staring at her with a dumb smile.

Straightening up, he rests his chin on the top of her head, closing his eyes and enjoying the closeness of his wife, the warmness of her body and the way it moves as she cooks.

“You burn everything you touch,” Haruka snorts in answer, unaware of his loving thoughts. It takes him a while to remember what he had asked her. “Which is ironic,” she continues, “Considering you had that whole firefighter phase.”

Makoto whines and she reaches out with one hand to pat his cheek. “We needed the money! Plus, it kept me fit for you when I couldn’t go to the gym,” he says, as if it explained everything. “You can’t complain– we both know you enjoyed those years.”

“Oh, yes. My giant husband – boyfriend at the time – gaining even more muscle. That sure is something enjoyable about _those years_. Though I’m not really fond of the waiting and the fires, you know.”

“You know I’ll always come back for you,” he assures her, kissing the top of her head.

Makoto can’t see it, but he knows she’s smiling. He feels her nodding a bit and she’s soon resuming her cooking, their talking ending right there. With one last kiss, he lets go of her, walking back to the living room. In the hurry to see his wife, he forgot to take off his shoes – and he hopes she won’t realize (but she will) –, so he moves to the doorstep, kicking them one at a time, then placing his coat on a rack.

He looks around the apartment – all the little things and memories they build up there in more than 5 years. Every little spot, every little color.

He painted those walls 3 years ago. They were white, and, in Haruka’s opinion, boring. She said they should make this place somewhere worth living, and he agreed. The two of them started planning where to put the furniture and color combinations, something that would make them happy and comfortable after a hard day of work. Something relaxing.

Looking over to a black scratch in one of the walls, he chuckles to himself. They hadn’t seen each other for five days – Haruka on a trip with the restaurant staff – so when the day of meeting finally came, Makoto lost it. He bent her over the table, the one they have very close to the wall, and had her there. When he turned her around and sat her on the table, he thrusted into her mercilessly, the only sound being her begging for more. He might have put more force than he should, because the table moved with each movement, squeaking onto the floor and the wall, making that ugly mark that means so much to him.

Looking at the sofa, he remembers late weekends where they would sit and watch a movie, Haruka half on top of him and both of them curled up and covered with a blanket. She was so tired one day, but still insisted on watching the movie – keeping the routine. Of course, she ended up sleeping on his lap halfway through it, and she still thinks he didn’t realize it.

“Why are you standing there, laughing by yourself?” Haruka asks, showing up besides him and hugging him close.

Makoto looks at her and smiles – smiles because even though they have all those memories and things Makoto would rather keep, he knows he will go anywhere if it means staying with her. They can make new memories, in a new house, with their own child. He wants it.

“Just thinking about moving out,” he says, looking around once again. “This place... it’s full of memories. I was just–“

He doesn’t get to end whatever he was saying, because soon Haruka’s lips are on his own. She had to stand on her tip toes and pull him down by the collar of his shirt, but there it is. When they part, her eyes tell him everything, how she too will miss here but she knows it’ll be better some other place. They will be a family.

“Dinner is ready,” she says instead, walking back to the kitchen. Smiling to himself, Makoto trails after her, his heart warm in his chest.

 

* * *

 

 

They finish eating, Haruka’s cooking as good as ever. She is really great – she has to be, and Makoto loves every bite.

Suddenly, though, Haruka stands, ignoring her husband’s questioning gaze. She moves back to the kitchen, dishes in hands, only to be back not a minute after. She is holding something, though Makoto can’t see it; her hands behind her back. He is about to ask her when she sits down again, her eyes locked on his and her gaze intense – that same blue gleam he will never stop loving.

“Dessert,” she says, finally bringing her hands to her front. She is holding a plate with a sweet Makoto have never seen before. It’s small and made of chocolate, with cherry syrup on top. It’s so tiny he could eat it in one bite. “You want it?”

“Of course!” Makoto smiles, nodding excitedly. He loves chocolate – but more than that, he loves when Haruka makes him chocolate. There is no better taste to it than the one to feel when someone you love going through the work of making you your favorite dessert.

Giving him a smirk, Haruka puts the plate on the table, picking the chocolate thingy with her bare hands. “Come and get it,” is all she says, before putting it in her mouth and biting down.

Amazed, puzzled and suppressing the urge to laugh, Makoto dips forward and kisses her, Haruka giving him access to her mouth, letting him taste the dessert she so carefully made.

It’s sweet, so sweet. And the chocolate too, of course. Makoto can say for sure this is the tastier kiss they have ever had, and he is so glad Haruka had this idea. The chocolate melting at the heat of their mouths, the cherry syrup making it slippery. He sure likes it, and likes it more because he knows she planned this from the start. She thought about trying this out, mostly for his sake because she is not that fond of sweets.

They part, their eyes still closed. He feels her moving closer and moves his hands to her hips, pulling her. When his eyes finally open, Haruka’s lips are _glistering_ , a mix of syrup and saliva, a delicious combination he wants all to himself. Sighing, she too opens her eyes, biting down at her bottom lip as she looks over to him. He assumes he may look the same, then.

“Did you like it?” she asks him, her voice barely a whisper and her lips only an inch away from his. “It’s a new recipe.”

“I love it,” Makoto says, smiling at Haruka and resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes once again. “Your best one yet.”

Satisfied, Haruka smiles, hugging him by the neck and giving him a peck on the lips. One look and they are standing, both in sync, holding hands and moving to the bedroom. He is already feeling it – the excitement running through his veins as he looks over to his wife, the awareness of what they are about to do.

They let go of their hands once they get to the bedroom, Haruka’s hands now on his chest, slowly undoing every button of his shirt. He is looking at her, but she’s too concentrated on getting his shirt open to notice, so he reaches out with one hand to put her hair behind her ear. She has long, black hair; not very fond of hair salons, she doesn’t get as many haircuts as she should, her bangs getting all over her eyes and face. He likes it better when her hair is tied up, in a bun or a ponytail – some way her whole face is visible.

She finishes opening his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders and arms until it finds its way to the floor. “I’m gonna go freshen up. You better be out of these once I’m back,” she says, tugging the hem of his jeans with a smile. Nodding, Makoto kisses her and lets her go, slipping out of his trousers as soon as she’s gone. He lies back on the bed, wearing nothing but his underwear and waits.

It takes her five minutes or less to come back, her freaking hair tied in a bun. Their eyes lock and suddenly everything goes quiet. They have been together countless times, but today is different. Today, in Makoto’s stomach lays the same excitement he felt when he finally gathered the courage to confess to her, all those years ago. His hands shake the same way and his heart beats restlessly as he watches Haruka undress, her porcelain skin glowing with the moonlight, her eyes that deep blue of hue – full of passion, of love – and her hair; a simple gesture, a detail that will most likely be ruined once the night is over.

She is not as muscular as she used to be, her job not giving her much free time to swim as much as she would like and the competitiveness now gone. She is also not that skinny, but he loves her appearance nonetheless. He would love her in any way, in any form, until the rest of their lives and maybe even beyond that.

“This is so weird,” Haruka chuckles, crawling on top of her husband. She too is wearing nothing but underwear, the green set that looks impossibly good on her. “But in a good weird kind of way.”

Makoto smiles and hugs her by her naked waist, bringing her closer and kissing her on the forehead. “Yeah,” he says. “Feels good.”

Her eyes meet his and she leans up, Makoto’s lips finding their way to her own. It starts slowly, just delicate touches and soft feelings, until his hands move to her waist and her legs are around his hips, on top of him as he lies on his back. She kisses him eagerly, hands on his cheeks and hips pressing down. The strap of her bra falls down her shoulder, Makoto figuring it’s time to take it off.

With a swift motion, the bra is open and gone, Haruka’s breasts now finally free for him to touch. He slides her up his body until she’s sitting on his stomach, lining himself with her nipples. She is very sensitive there, the buds already erects and begging for attention. Being the gentleman he is, he closes his mouth around one of them, licking and sucking and kissing, one of his hands pinching and teasing the other one.

He loves the noises she makes; her usually calm voice coming out breathy and loud, Haruka’s whole body reacting, her hips grinding down on his abdomen and her hands gripping his hair tightly, pressing him against him and silently begging for him to keep going. He loves the mess she turns into, how desperate she becomes when he hasn’t even touched her fully. Loves her face, the crease between her eyebrows and the neediness she shows every time her nails press down against his flesh. Loves her body and the way it moves, loves loving her in every single way.

It’s bright in there, even with lights off. The curtains are open and they have a big window there, in their bedroom, the moonlight washing them over with its brightness and its greatness. He watches Haruka through white, thick stripes of light, her body glowing because it’s so heated in there they are both already sweating. She moves on her own, her body in need of more, always trying to get him closer. With one last weak bite, he slides himself down until she’s practically sitting on his face. Not a word is traded as Haruka positions herself on him, as he pushes her panties aside and finally tastes her.

Haruka is wet already, her hole pulsing as he moves his tongue all over her. She grips the sheets and moans, voice breaking, when he holds her down by the hips and pushes his tongue inside, her inner walls pulsing and clenching around him. One of his hands lets go of her hips and moves to her clit, rubbing it and earning more broken moans and a twitch of legs.

She’s breathing harshly through her mouth, her eyes probably closed as she buries herself in the feeling.

“Yes, yes... Ma- Makoto...!” she whispers loudly, hips moving and pushing Makoto more far inside. She is close already, he can tell, so he trades positions; his fingers now deep inside her and tongue pressing against her clit.

It doesn’t take her too long, soon climaxing with his fingers buried in her, his tongue working to catch every last drop of her. When he’s done, Haruka rolls around the bed, collapsing on it. He helps her out of her panties, tossing it aside and crawling on top of her, taking those pretty lips among his own.

As they kiss, he helps her position herself, with legs spread and arms around his neck. Makoto slips out of his underwear, losing it somewhere on the bed – he doesn’t care. His only concern now is his wife, fully spread on their bedsheets, naked and flushed, glistering with sweat.

“I want to suck you off,” Haruka says, her eyes glazy and demanding. Blinking twice, Makoto nods and silently asks her where should he go. “Just sit on the edge of the bed or lie down. Whatever is fine.”

He decides to lie on his back, not wanting Haruka to hurt her knees. She is between his legs in a second, eyeing him behind thick lashes.

Makoto is hard and flustered, standing tall and proud as Haruka closes a fist around him. It is already slippery with pre-cum, but she decides to wet it all over with her warm tongue, a rough moan stuck in Makoto’s throat. She knows him too well, knows every little spot capable of breaking him and putting him together. It feels good – so damn good, her mouth finally closing around his tip, tongue circling his head and cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

She could never deep-throat him, but that’s okay. He knows he is far too big for her pretty, little mouth, and she doesn’t need to do that to make him feel amazingly good. Haruka, since the first year they have been together, grew to learn and improve her skills, making him see heaven before his eyelids, mind completely blank and fingers digging in the mattress so hard he once ripped the sheets. Still, every time feels better, and right now is no exception.

“I’m getting close already,” he weakly admits, her hand tight against his shaft as she pumps whatever she can’t fit, the pressure of her hand and mouth so deliciously good it feels almost wrong.

Haruka releases him with a loud pop, arching an eyebrow. “Already?” she teases, her hand moving along his cock, up and down; up and down...

“Y-yeah,” Makoto hisses. “Watching you cum always gets me like t-this.”

“Oh, yes, I know,” she smirks. “You are such a pervert.”

He laughs, hips thrusting up and into his wife’s hand. There is no denying it– Makoto sure is what people would categorize a pervert. He has learned to accept this fact over the years, but the funny thing is that Haruka is one, too. He lost count of the times she showed up and tried something new in bed just for the sake of it, and there were pretty strange stuff. She gets turned on by the most improbable things, and ends up pulling Makoto along with her. There is nothing to complain there, though.

“I’m not stopping, though,” she says, licking his slit to give emphasis to her words. Makoto frowns and shoots upwards, sitting on the bed with Haruka between his legs.

“I can’t cum now,” Makoto says, the question implied in his sentence.

“You won’t,” Haruka smiles, a mischievous gleam in her dark, blue eyes. “But I’ll get you so close you gonna wish you could.”

He can’t believe that she wants to tease him to the limit now of all times. One of her hands presses against his chest and pushes him down, her mouth all around him once again. It’s warm and wet and tight, her tongue massaging every single place of his shaft, every spot that has him curling his toes and bucking his hips. She is really good with her mouth and she knows it, an expert teaser who is full of vantage, using her whole body and putting on a show for him, ass up and rolling up and down and _there_ , making Makoto want to grab and spank it. He can’t reach that far and he knows it, but the thought of it is arousing enough.

“I swear to God, one day you’re gonna kill me...” he grunts, closing his eyes tightly as Haruka sucks harder.

He feels her smiling around him and he knows he shouldn’t, but he opens his eyes anyway. She releases him with a loud pop – she knows he likes those sounds –, eyeing him with amusement.

“Don’t die on me now, _Daddy_ ,” she chuckles, unaware of how hot Makoto’s insides feel. She most likely did that as a joke, but the reaction is so not what he would have expected. His cock twitches in her hold, Haruka’s eyes flying back down, understanding flashing behind wide blue orbs. She looks back at him, smirking victoriously. “Such a pervert.”

Makoto blushes in bed for the first time in many years, even the tip of his ears feeling warm. This is so embarrassing! And definitely not something he had thought of. And possibly so wrong...

“I think I’ll change my plans,” she announces, sitting back on her legs, still stroking him. “I have found another way of teasing you.”

Makoto groans, his head falling back on the pillow. “You are incredibly unfair. And I can’t believe you called me that.”

Haruka crawls back on top of him, tapping on his cheek and watching him through long, thick lashes. “You are so cute,” she says, kissing his nose. “All blushy-blushy like when we were younger. Did you like being called Daddy this much? That’s _so_ dirty.”

Before she can start teasing him again, Makoto hooks an arm around her waist and rolls her over on the bed, getting on top of her and spreading her legs apart. He kisses her, teeth biting down at her lower lip and pulling, Haruka’s moan echoing through the room. She soon picks up the pace, hands scratching his back and legs caressing the side of his body, tongue working full time and curling around his, tasting him. He grinds against her, Makoto’s cock pressing on her wet hole but not slipping in yet. She’s been so bad she needs to be punished, even if lightly. He’s not about to let this go.

Her hips buck up, her whole body begging for him to fuck her already, but he doesn’t give in. Instead, he kisses her jaw, neck and collarbone, his hands pressing against her sided and feeling her up. She has gotten kind of chubby over the years, and so much better to grab; his fingers squeezing her ass and the flesh of her hips, bringing her closer and closer because he can’t resist her. Damn – he really can’t. It’s hard to act tough when he has a wife like Haruka. Not giving her what she wants feels almost like kicking a puppy (or smashing his balls, which is not a good feeling).

“You want this?” Makoto asks Haruka, rubbing against her. She nods, whimpering and squirming. “How bad do you want it?”

“So, so bad, Daddy,” Haruka smiles, circling his neck with her arms.

Makoto laughs lowly, eyes glued on hers. “You really want to be punished, don’t you?”

She leans up, lips just an inch apart from his, their hot, heavy breathing hitting against both of their faces. “I’m a bad, _bad_ girl,” she whispers, her eyelids falling and her eyes hazy. “Punish me, Daddy.”

He slams into her not a heartbeat after, their lips crashing together in a rough, hungry kiss. It’s messy and there is drool everywhere, but it feels so good because he is finally inside her, feeling Haruka’s inner walls clenching against his cock; her hot, tight heat engulfing him and feeling like coming back home after years of restlessness. He doesn’t give her time to think or get used to anything, thrusting in and out of her with all his might. He’s painfully hard and had been almost close before, his patience slipping. Makoto feels on the verge of exploding, their whole situation overwhelming him in a good way.

“F-fuck...!” Haruka shouts, hugging him tighter and pressing her legs on his hips, wanting him deeper and faster and more, more, _more_.

Makoto moves in a reckless pace, fucking Haruka like she’s been begging the moment he stepped into the apartment.

She taps him on the shoulders, getting him to look at her. She nods to her side and presses her leg against him, rolling them around. He loves when Haruka gets on top, loves when she rides him. The view of her wife squirming and moaning on him is one of the best he has ever seen. It’s probably one of his favorite positions, too, because it’s so mesmerizing he would have to be a fool not to like it; not to go crazy every time she presses her hips down and leans in to kiss him, rolling back and forth on him. It’s crazy and maddening how far deep in her he can get from under.

Haruka sits up and puts both of her hands on his thighs behind her, supporting herself as she leans back and tells him to enjoy the view. Makoto loves how confident she is, how she knows he likes to watch her. And it’s not a secret she likes to be watched, too.

She rides him in a slow, gentle way, so different from how he was fucking her earlier. The change of pace is enough to have him lasting longer and craving her more, his hands gripping her by the hips and pulling her down, every move filling the room with the sound of flesh slapping. Her breasts, too, are bouncing up and down, hypnotizing him and making his mouth water; it’s too much. So he sits up, his face aligned with hers because of their height difference. Makoto kisses her, helping her movements by pulling and pushing her, Haruka’s hips forming a circle around his cock.

He’s getting close again, the heat pooling in his lower abdomen and his breathing stuttering. Haruka feels so, so good; he never wants this feeling to end.

“Enough,” he harshly says, Haruka stopping her movements altogether. “I– I... want to last longer.”

His wife smiles at him, leaning up and placing a kiss on his forehead as she slips off of him. She lies on her back, smiling lazily at Makoto, who eyes her with adoration.

“Let’s go slower, then,” Haruka suggests, one of her hands reaching to push back his hair. He is all sweaty and tired, his lungs working on full-time. Haruka too looks exhausted, and it’s been some time since they have done it like this. It is usually a lot quicker and more like a relaxing experience, not the raw, heated thing they are having now. It’s almost nostalgic.

Makoto positions himself on top of her again, but Haruka’s hand lifting his chin stops him from thrusting in. He looks up at her, not ready for the dazzling smile she’s showing, or the gleam in her eyes.

“Don’t just fuck me,” she says, her voice soft and barely a whisper. “I want you to make love to me now.”

Makoto smiles and leans in, kissing her with passion and steadiness. Haruka’s hands find their place on his neck, caressing his jaw with both thumbs. It’s the second time that night Makoto thinks time must have stopped, the easiness in the atmosphere so comfortable and warm, like it has been always there.

He presses into her slowly, his mouth not leaving hers. Haruka hooks one of her legs around his hip, and Makoto places his hand on her thigh, supporting it. He is not even fully in when he thrusts out, the tip barely inside. They have gotten so used to the reckless pace and the raw lust this last couple of years they forgot how good it feels to really feel each other; feel the energy flowing around them.

He wants her to cum again before him, wants to please her as much as he can, so he reaches out between them, rubbing her clit as he sinks deep into her, her hips rolling and twitching in a slow, delicious pace. Haruka’s mouth is now fully open as she moans, Makoto moving to kiss her neck and shoulder, sucking and biting the skin there.

She clenches around him, back arching and eyes tightly closed. He loves her so much, and loves watching her feel this good, with her nails scratching his skin or the sheets, her thighs hugging his waist and her voice running free, some days shouting, some others just quietly sobbing as he tortures her until she begs. But in some days, Makoto just loves to feel the softness of her skin; to see the gleam in her blue, big eyes; to hear the low, almost unnoticeable gasps she lets out; to feel the caress of her fingers against his skin. There is a lot Makoto loves when it comes to Haruka, when they do it out of harsh lust or love; when they just see each other for a couple of hours because they’re both covering extra hours at work or during the weekends, when they sit down to watch a movie.

“You,” Haruka whispers, tightening the grip on Makoto’s hair, “Make me feel _so_ good.”

Smiling against the junction of her neck and shoulder, Makoto presses deeper into her, his fingers also increasing the pressure and teasing her just like she likes it. His muscles hurt and burn, and he feels them stretching and twitching. He wants to make her feel better than good; wants Haruka to know, by his actions today, how much he loves her. Wants her to know he would go through heaven and hell just to be by her side. He wants to prove her that he is worthy of her love, of being her husband, of being the father of her future child, because there is no one out there who is going to love her more than him. So he pushes in deep, hitting at her good spots; he kisses her and massages her whole body; he follows her demands, every tiny little thing, until she’s cumming undone by his hands.

She clenches around him, the pressure so intense Makoto’s own orgasm hits, his eyes closing and mind blank as he thrusts deep and unloads in her, a loud, pained groan slipping out of him.

He rolls to his wife’s side, lying on his back with his chest moving unevenly. His breathing comes out in harsh pants, much like Haruka’s. They turn their heads to look at each other, satisfied smiles stamping their faces and hands moving to grasp at each other. She looks... perfect. Breathtaking. Her body glistering with sweet and her face flushed; her hair a complete mess and the bun ruined. She is almost 30 years old, and Makoto didn’t think she could get more beautiful than when they were younger. Boy, was he wrong.

“It’s done now,” Haruka says, shifting closer to him. “Now we wait.”

Makoto hums and hugs her, his cheek against her forehead. He is exhausted, and by the way Haruka is lying on him, he knows she is, too. So he covers them both with the sheets, kisses her goodnight and closes his eyes, his heart beating and spreading warmth through his whole body.

 

* * *

 

 

It's been sixteen years. The weather is chilly outside, so Haruka shifts closer to her husband, both of them properly dressed in comfortable and warm coats as they sit on the couch, Makoto playing his videogames and Haruka reading her husband’s newest books, which is already a bestseller.

Through the years, Makoto decided that writing should be more than just a hobby, his decision earning full support from his family. Haruka is proud of him. He still teaches Literature and is not publishing books every year or anything like that. Makoto is Makoto: the hard worker and selfless man who found it within himself motivation to follow his dreams and pursue them.

“You’re so warm,” Haruka murmurs, leaning her head over Makoto’s shoulder. “I don’t ever want to get out of here.”

Chuckling, Makoto pauses the game and hooks an arm around his wife. “Want me to pick Manami-chan up today?” he asks, his fingers caressing the skin of her arm. Haruka closes the book and looks up to meet green, beautiful eyes.

“Then I wouldn’t have a reason to stay here,” she shakes her head. “It’s okay, though. Ran called and said she’d take Manami shopping. Something about her tenth birthday.”

“Oh, right. It’s next month already,” Makoto says, his eyes softening. “They really do grow up fast.”

Smiling, Haruka nods. It doesn’t feel like so much time has passed, and yet here they are, parents of two, beautiful children. It still amazes her that she was able to go through the whole parenting thing without stressing – more than necessary – but she guesses having Makoto right there, always helping, has something to do with it.

They hear steps coming from the stairs and look over to see their eldest, Kazuhiko, walking over to them.

“Heading out,” the dark-haired teenager says as he bends to kiss his mother goodbye. “I’m taking Chi-chan to the movies today.”

Makoto smiles, his eyes teasing. “I was wondering why you’re so dressed up.”

Kazu groans and hides his face on the armrest of the couch, Makoto’s laughter echoing through the room. Haruka herself feels the urge to chuckle, but out of sympathy, she resists it. Instead, she reaches over to pat her son’s head.

“Have fun, you two,” Haruka says, her voice gentle as she ruffles her eldest’s dark locks. “But, before you go, could you call your sister and tell her Ran is picking her up from her swimming class, please?”

“Sure,” Kazu smiles, lifting his head from the couch.

He has his father’s smile, and Manami too. But his eyes are much like Haruka’s, though a bit lighter. Manami’s eyes are dark brown, something she might have gotten from Makoto’s parents. Still, both of their children have black hair, though Manami’s are almost blue.

“Any idea of when you’ll be back?” Makoto asks. Kazu pauses, tilting his head as he thinks about it.

“Before eight, probably. I still have to take her home.”

“What a gentleman,” Haruka smiles. “I’m proud. Maybe she’ll even kiss you once the movie starts.

“Mom!” Kazu blushes from head to toe, his eyes wide as he turns around and marches to the main door, his movements tense and mechanical. Makoto laughs, trying to muffle the sound with his hand.

Kazuhiko and Chiharu-chan have been friends since the first day of middle school, and even though she had to move to another city because of her parents’ jobs, they still see each other every now and then. Haruka can tell Kazu likes her a lot, the same kind of feeling she had for Makoto when they were younger. That butterfly-like feeling in the pit of her stomach and the goosebumps every time they touched... a simple crush at the time, that evolved into something so much more powerful, so much better... Chi-chan is a good girl from a decent family, but that’s not all: she makes Haruka’s son happy, and that’s more than enough.

“I’m glad they are still friends,” Makoto says, Haruka blinking and turning to face him. “She’s sweet, and takes good care of him. I think they are great together.”

Smiling at her husband’s ever so accurate ability to read her mind, Haruka nods. “Yeah,” is all she says, before leaning up to kiss those soft lips that she grew to love and need, caressing the face of the man she has always loved. “Can you imagine, though? Us being grandparents.”

Makoto stares at her for a moment, his eyes wide and gleaming. Then, he breaks into a grin, the same smile of their children and the same juvenile expression. “I couldn’t ask for anything else,” he says, his voice so soft it could lure a crying baby to sleep. “It’s still too early, though.”

“Mhmm,” Haruka agrees, resting her cheek on Makoto’s shoulder. “It’s fine. We can wait.”

Yet she can’t help but feel excited at the thought.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably share with you why I chose those names for Makoto and Haru's children (as well as Kazu's best friend/maybe future girlfriend):  
> KAZUHIKO (和彦): Japanese name meaning "harmonious prince."  
> MANAMI (愛海): Japanese name meaning "love sea."  
> CHIHARU (千春): Japanese name meaning "one thousand springs."
> 
> The thing is this was really hard for me because I don't want to have children, so thinking about reasons why couples would want them etc was kind of hard. Writing it from Haruka's POV at first made it easier, I guess. Still, I was so excited to post this I didn't even read it. If any part is confusing/seeming incomplete, please let me know.
> 
> I'm so sick right now I can't even type UBFALKFAFLJ god i'm a mess.
> 
> Please comment and let me know what your thoughts!  
> You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter: @meowruka


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